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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283613">Home is where you are</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardsunangel/pseuds/Waywardsunangel'>Waywardsunangel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I have no idea, M/M, Why do I do this, angst???</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:09:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardsunangel/pseuds/Waywardsunangel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can’t take it anymore. </p><p>He can’t deal with the paparazzis, the fans, none of it. Not since the love of his life left him to deal with it all alone. </p><p>There’s only so much you can take before you break  </p><p>Returning home seems the be the only option he has left but home is where the heart is, isn’t it? </p><p>//</p><p>Or where Harry goes home after 10 years and finds himself surrounded by reminders of why he fell in love in the first place and Louis heart betrays him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>Chapter 1. Return</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>//</p><p>It smelled the same. </p><p>The damp, somewhat fresh smell of rain that’s only just fallen. </p><p>Which, of course it has.  </p><p>It was always raining, here. That’s part of the reason Harry left in the first place. Well. One of the many. </p><p>But, he had come back, hadn’t he? </p><p>Here he was, standing by himself, in the middle of his old road, outside his old house. </p><p>Nothing’s changed. </p><p>Well except for the whole alone thing. That was new. </p><p>He had never been alone here. </p><p>He didn’t quite know how to feel about it. Sad? Too basic. Mad? Why should he be? <br/>
So he turned to indifference. Pretended he didn’t care he was alone. He did care, but, who had to know? </p><p>He could act. He had an Oscar to prove it. And the fact that no one really knew who he truly was. </p><p>Except for that one person, but. We’re not going to talk about <em>him</em>. Indifference, remember? Being alone and being… <em>okay</em> about it. </p><p>Still, it was surreal. How much it hadn’t changed. </p><p>The same cars sat in the driveway that the same trees lined, leading to the same door harry had walked away from 10 years ago when his career kicked off, when his life wasn’t a mess of paparazzi, fans and broken hearts. </p><p>In a way, he was glad his mum and Robin decided to keep their old family home. It was something familiar, a place full of fond memories of before.  </p><p>But along with those memories came reminders of what he had lost. <em>Who</em> he had lost. </p><p>Harry sighed as it began to rain again, pregnant drops falling slow at first but gradually picking up the pace. </p><p>He could stall no longer. </p><p>He walked to the door as slowly as the pouring rain would allow before he was drenched, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. Another familiar thing. That generic chime that always broke off a little too early, the result of a button pressed too many times by people harry no longer spoke to. </p><p>He could distinctly hear the sound of bare feet padding across the foyer before he heard the tell-tale click of the lock as it turned before the door slide open. <br/>
Harry’s mother stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at her son, standing drenched on the porch. She stayed that way for a moment, eyes moving across his face, taking in every feature before she broke and threw herself at him with a guttural sob. </p><p>Harry froze for a second before bringing his arm up and around his mother, holding her tight to him, pressing his face into her hair to hide the tears that had begun escaping his own eyes. </p><p>They stayed like that, gripping each other as if for dear life, not even noticing as the water that had seeped into Harry’s clothes began to dampen his mums. </p><p>Finally, they drew apart, Harry’s mother pulling him gently by the arm into the house, leading him into the kitchen and sitting him down on one of the stools there, silent as she brushed away tears, turned on the kettle and began making two cups of tea. </p><p>Harry watched her for a moment, scared to look away before the curiosity set in. How much had changed? </p><p>A quick survey of the room showed that not much, if anything, has changed. <br/>
The same pictures of their little family were stuck on the fridge; pictures of him and his sister, his mum and robin, all of them together. Pictures of harry and the boys he’d been friends with that he had left behind. Pictures of <em>him</em>. The one he had betrayed and who had betrayed him. <br/>
He looked away quickly to avoid breaking down. </p><p>That’s when he saw them. The keys. The ones he had left on the table when he’d walked out ten years ago, head full of dreams, full of love and reckless abandon and anger at those trying to hold him back; his mother, his sister, his stepfather, his other friends. Everyone but the one he left with, the one in the pictures. That blue eyed boy… </p><p>The keys were in the exact spot he’d left them in. </p><p>He was jolted back to reality, tears pooling in his eyes, by his mother gently setting a cup in front of him.  </p><p>She studied his face for a second as she took a seat beside him, reaching out a hand to rest gently on top of his own.</p><p>It was silent for a moment.</p><p>“The day you left...” she began, voice hoarse. She cleared it before she continued. “The day you left, I thought you would come back straight away.”</p><p>She looked down, watching the movement of her thumb as she rubbed the back of his hand.</p><p>“I didn’t think you’d actually left. You were so young.”</p><p>“Mum-“ Harry began, but his mother cut him off.</p><p>“I left your keys there waiting for you to come home.” She took a deep breath and looked up. “You never did. Next thing I knew you were all over the news. The newest celebrity, the young, mysterious boy no one knew anything about.”</p><p>She withdrew her hand and picked up her tea, but she didn’t drink it.</p><p>“10 years Harry. It’s been 10 years.” She whispered.</p><p>“I know.” Harry looked down at his own cup, his voice breaking. “I know mum.”</p><p>He looked up at her, his green eyes shining with unshed tears.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” He breathed. He couldn’t quite stop the torrent of words that bubbled to his lips.</p><p>“I- I saw a chance to- to do what I’d always wanted and <em>he</em> pushed me to take it, he <em>convinced</em> me that I would make it, promised that we’d live together and he could do what he dreamed while I lived out my dream and- and he was right, the <em>bastard</em>. He was right and he promised- he said he’d stick by me, that he would always be by my side- he <em>promised</em>. But he left, and I was alone and it all got too much- <em>it’s too much</em>. And I was so mad, so mad, at you and Robin and Gemma because you tried to hold me back, you said I was too young then but I didn’t believe you.<em> I didn’t believe you</em> but you were right. You were right the whole time and I’m sorry and <em>I can’t do this anymore</em> I-“</p><p>And then he broke.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Louis sees someone he never thought he’d see again and doesn’t quite know how to deal with it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chapter 2. Forget</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This wasn’t supposed to happen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> wasn’t supposed to be here. He </span>
  <span class="s2">said</span>
  <span class="s1"> he wouldn’t ever come back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But there he was, standing out in the street, staring with blank eyes at his old house. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis hands were shaking too much to keep a hold of the drape he had drawn back so he let it go, let it slide back into place, effectively blocking </span>
  <span class="s2">him</span>
  <span class="s1"> from sight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>This wasn’t supposed to happen</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had come back here, holding on to the promise that had been angrily muttered 10 years ago, when he first left this place, hand in hand with the boy who had uttered the words. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy he’d come here to forget. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy who was standing outside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Why was he here</em>? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis took a deep breath and tried to swallow the knot forming in his throat, reaching out one still shaking hand to tweak back the drapes again, peering back down at the street below. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watched as the rain began again,watched as it seemed to drown the boy, no, the </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>man</em>, </span>
  <span class="s1">standing alone, shoulders slightly hunched. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He seemed to come back to himself when the rain began, lips parting in what Louis figured was a sigh, before moving, taking tiny steps forward as the rain continued to pummel down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time he reached the porch he was soaked. His curls, the ones Louis had always adored, hung, lifeless, in front of his face as he hesitated. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis held his breath as the man rang the doorbell, as his mother, Anne, flung herself at him, as they clung to each other in a way reminiscent of how Louis used to. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He let go of the curtain, vision blurred with tears, his heart clenching painfully. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Why. Why are you here</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stepped away from the window, walking back until his knees hit the edge of his bed and he sat down, lowering his gaze to his hands, clenched in his lap. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had moved back into his old home. The rest of his family had long since moved away, to a bigger space, to bigger things. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had left them so they left him. They still spoke to each other, Louis and his mum, his sisters. He could never shut them out completely. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was tempted to call them now, to tell them what was happening even though he wasn’t quite sure himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had kept his old room instead of moving into the bigger one. Put his old decorations back up where they had been before the house was put for sale. Before he had left. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The pictures had been the hardest to put back up. There had been so many of </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">him</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> that he couldn’t quite bring himself to get rid of. He had put those ones in a box, along with some other things that hadn’t belonged to him, and stored it deep in closet. The others, the pictures of his family, his friends- those had been tacked back up in their rightful places. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He studied them now, one hand idly picking at a hole in his jeans. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t deal with this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not by himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reached out and grabbed his phone, laying silent on his bedside table. He unlocked it, fingers still shaking slightly, slowing him down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wondered for a moment who to call, wondered whether he </span>
  <span class="s2">should</span>
  <span class="s1">, before quickly pressing the name at the top of his recent calls list. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he breathed, not surprised to find even his voice was shaky. “Could we meet up?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waited for confirmation, ignored the question he could hear despite it not being asked when he finally got the answer he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need a drink.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yea I have no idea  sorry if it’s weird, thanks for reading</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is probably weird and probably sucks but I feel inspired sooooo YAY</p></blockquote></div></div>
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